Here and Now: a Honeymoon Vignette
by R. Grace
Summary: In which Matthew's eyes are opened and the south of France is hot. Completely gratuitous M/M honeymoon smut.


**Just a little one-shot written for a tumblr prompt requesting fluffy smut. Enjoy! :D**

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It was hot on the Mediterranean coast. Mary grinned mischievously at her husband as she swam over to him in the crystal-blue water, enjoying the freedom to let go and simply _live_. No obligations; no one to disapprove of their playful, open affection; no one watching. The beach, with it's gold-flecked sand, was quiet and secluded in the late morning: a perfect haunt for two new lovers intent upon forgetting that the rest of the world existed. They had left their problems and differences carefully packed away back at home. For the time being, there was only each other and the beauty of release from the years upon years of restraint and denial. There was only them and their love, and everything was beautiful.

She swam up behind Matthew and watched for a moment as the muscles in his shoulders worked beneath his pale skin as he swam, clearly enjoying the novelty of it. Riding his bicycle was still a bit difficult, but he could swim with ease and grace. Mary had also discovered other, more pleasurable, physical activities he was very good at, and her smiled widened at the thought.

"Darling, wait for me."

Matthew turned to see that his wife had followed him out into water that was over her head. Concerned that she not over-tire herself, he wrapped his arms around her, supporting her weight as he stood on his toes with the water lapping around his chin. Mary's hands immediately found their way into his wet hair, and she wrapped her legs securely around his waist, leaning close for a salty kiss.

She groaned as his large hands made their way down her back to cup her bottom, his fingers sliding just under the edge of her bathing costume to caress her skin. Playfully, she nipped and sucked at his lips, enjoying the salty taste and his deep moans. Matthew's legs suddenly weakened as her tongue slid into his mouth, overwhelming him with intense arousal. They both slipped under the water for a moment.

"Let's move into shallower water, shall we," he rasped as he helped Mary wrap her arms around his neck, pulling her behind him as he swam. Mary took full advantage of her position by nibbling on the shell of his ear as they went. As soon as Matthew's feet again touched the bottom, Mary released her hold and swam around in front of him, giving him her most provocative stare. Leaning back into the gentle currant, she swam away from him, knowing he would follow. She giggled when he caught her, pretending to struggle as his arms ensnared her.

She feigned a little, startled gasp as his arousal brushed against her leg.

"Oh! Dear me, what was that? A sea monster trying to devour me?"

"Oh, you!" Matthew chuckled at her silliness and pulled her to him, pressing his hips against hers hungrily as his lips attacked her long neck.

Mary's hand slipped down between them, caressing him through his trunks.

"Matthew...darling, please...make love to me," she gasped.

"Ready to go back now?"

"No. I mean, make love to me now. _Here_. I can't wait."

"Here? Now?" Matthew's mouth gaped open confusion, prompting another probing kiss from his wife.

"Yes, _here, now_. There's nobody around."

"But...but, Mary, we can't..._outside_."

Mary pulled slightly away from him, giving him her most mischievous smile and shimmied playfully in the water, her toes caressing up the insides of his thighs.

"Come on, Matthew. Don't be such a prude. It'll be fun. And I do want you so _very_ much."

"I want you too, love, but..._outside_? Anybody could happen by, and then what?"

Mary was about to argue her case further when a group of older Italian tourists walked slowly past them on the beach, proving Matthew's point, however much Mary still wanted to try making love in the water. She conceded defeat, realizing the quickest way to get her way with him was to return to their room.

Once back inside, Matthew immediately strode into the bathroom and ran a bath for them, knowing they couldn't get into bed with sand and salt water covering them. Mary stepped into his arms as they waited for the tub to fill, indulging in deep kisses while they divested each other of their sodden bathing costumes. Once Matthew was completely naked, she stepped back to admire him. She always did so unashamedly, loving that she was finally allowed to ogle him to her heart's content. He truly was beautiful to look at. She especially loved the smattering of blonde hairs on his tummy, always fascinated by the way nature seemed to have highlighted the best parts of him that way: his strong legs, chest, forearms, and...well, _all _the best parts.

Blushing under her open scrutiny, Matthew pulled her close again to divest her of her suit and little flat shoes that laced so prettily up her trim calves, like a ballerina's slippers.

They settled into the bathtub together, hands finding bare skin under the warm water. Matthew rested his back against the edge of the tub, and Mary turned on her stomach to face him, finding herself in need of another kiss...and another...and another.

"Darling, shouldn't we hurry and wash so we can get in bed?" Matthew spoke between kisses.

"No," Mary answered firmly. "I need you _now_."

"Here?" Matthew's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. His wife certainly had some remarkable ideas about lovemaking.

"There's no chance of anybody happening by now," Mary spoke huskily in his ear as she reached under the water to stroke him languidly, wrenching little helpless grunts from his lips.

Seeing that she had him where she wanted him, Mary crawled over him, placing a knee on either side of his hips. She pressed herself against him, teasing them both, before reaching down to position him at her entrance.

Matthew's head fell back against the rim of the tub as she sank down on him, her body even warmer than usual from the heat of the bath water.

"Oh, God...you feel wonderful," he groaned as she began to rock over him.

Curling his body towards hers, he captured one rosy nipple with his mouth, suckling the last of the salt from her puckered skin. Mary's fingers tangled in his hair as she held him against her breast, her movements becoming more purposeful as her arousal grew.

After a moment, Matthew released her and let out a little plaintive sigh she had come to recognize. Immediately, she stilled over him.

"Is your back hurting you?" she asked gently.

"Only a little," Matthew asked bravely, hating for his wife to think he wasn't strong enough to make love to her as she desired.

Mary smiled lovingly as he lay back against the tub again, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his nose.

"I've got an idea," she spoke up after a moment's pause. Matthew groaned in protest as she moved off of him and turned away, thinking she was ready to get out. But she didn't get out. Instead, she leaned forward over the edge of the tub, her sweet, round bottom peeking up over the water's surface. "Why don't we try this way instead?"

Matthew was amazed at his wife's boldness. Did absolutely nothing make Mary blush? She had always been eager, never hesitant or missish, when it came to their lovemaking. She always wanted to try new things, and her creativity never ceased to impress him.

"You mean like...like a common farm animal? I...would have thought to treat my wife more...respectfully than that," Matthew stammered, his eyes riveted to her glistening, rosy cheeks.

Mary only rolled her eyes at him and retorted, "Really, Matthew. People make love this way too. I saw it in a book."

His eyes grew wide, wondering what kind of reading material Mary had been pursuing of late.

"Perhaps we can look at it together some time. I brought it with me," she purred seductively, pushing herself back towards him temptingly.

"Um...a-alright. We can try. But...promise you'll stop me if you feel uncomfortable."

"Nothing you do to me could ever make me uncomfortable, darling," Mary reassured him as he rose to his knees behind her. She held her breath in anticipation as his fingers firmly gripped her hips, and she felt his hardness brush against her.

With a long moan, Matthew pushed into her, watching in amazement as his length disappeared into her welcoming body. He muttered a low curse as he pulled back again before slamming his hips against hers, enjoying his view exceedingly well.

"Oh, darling, that...feels...agh!"

"_Yes_, Mary..."

Leaning over her, Matthew curled his arms around her shoulders, burying his face in the curve of her neck as he moved against her, faster and harder, each thrust taking him even deeper. Mary pushed back against him, her eyes slipping shut in ecstasy as delicious heat pooled at her center. She had never felt him so deep inside her before, and the feeling was beyond blissful. The slapping of their bodies as they came together mixed with his low grunts in her ear. She arched her back, allowing him to move even closer, and his stones brushed repeatedly against her swollen bud. The dual pleasures were too much, and she was soon overwhelmed by the most intense, blissful spend she had ever experienced. Matthew's cries were muffled by her hair as he came apart just after she did, his body jerking erratically against hers as he filled her with his essence before collapsing over her, completely boneless with blissful exhaustion.

Realizing that he was crushing his wife's petite form, he carefully eased them back into the water, resting against the back of the tub with her limp body cradled between his legs.

"Mary, that was..."

"Yes, it... _was_."

After several moments of languidly soaking in the cooling water until their fingers and toes were thoroughly shriveled, Mary suggested they dry off and get in bed.

"We can order some tea to restore our strength," she suggested coyly, slipping her silk dressing gown over her creamy shoulders. "Then we can have a peek at that book I was telling you about."

While Matthew might have been resistant to the notion during the first couple days of their married life, he now had new faith in Mary's amorous ingenuity. He would never have wanted to treat his wife like an object only for his pleasure, but she seemed to enjoy intimacy as much as he did, so he supposed it was alright. And there was almost nothing he could refuse Mary - nothing that was within his power to give.

Brushing that unwelcome thought aside, he pulled on his own bath robe and followed her into the bedroom, where she had already rung for tea and was busy rummaging in her valise for the promised book. He couldn't stop the amused, self-satisfied, grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. His wife was _very_ randy for him. Under such circumstances, what man wouldn't feel smug?


End file.
